


Unrequited

by MycroftexMachina



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MycroftexMachina/pseuds/MycroftexMachina
Summary: Auston goes home.





	Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> Carebear1900 asked "Can you please write work including a mix of your tropes, including a jealous Matty, interfering Willy, over supportive Dylan and Davo and a happy ending?" What I heard was "Can you write a pining Matty?" and this is the result. Sorry if it was not what you were looking for. Matty is incredibly hard to write for me, and this was the best I could do.

Opting out of Worlds for the second year in a row is not difficult after the fucked-up season Auston just had. His parents agree, his sisters are happy to have him back home sooner rather than later—though Alex complains about spoiled younger brothers—and the trainers and coaches support the decision wholeheartedly. It also helps that several Leafs decide to pass on the opportunity. Auston would have liked to visit Denmark with Freddie as a guide, sure. Can’t have everything, he supposes. Though Auston feels like he can’t have shit, these days.

 

Sidestepping the ridiculous questions about a presumed rift with Babs is also not difficult—in the two years in Toronto, Auston has mastered the art of spouting a tremendous amount of words without saying absolutely nothing. It helps that the Leafs PR is really excellent and the media training team outstanding. Admittedly, nobody was particularly enthralled with the ‘Shit happens’ episode, but Auston didn't get any grief for it. Not thinking about how he disappointed Coach, and himself, is more complicated, but Auston is trying not to overextend himself here. Baby steps.

 

Cleaning out his locker is also surprisingly easy, for all that Auston’d hoped the Leafs would be play into May, and even June, this year. It might be connected with the fact that Auston is ready to go home, or with the shitty end of the season or even with the shitty season itself. It might be due to the fact that Auston needs some distance—from Toronto, from the Leafs, and from Mitch—but he’s ready to leave it all behind and to find solace in familiar things.

 

Saying goodbye to his teammates is possibly the most challenging part of leaving Toronto for the summer. They’re a tight group, a _good_ group, but everyone knows that it’s going to look very different when training camp begins in September.

 

As much as the Leafs management are generally tightlipped when it comes to contract and trade decisions, everyone in the locker room knows that cap space is needed to accommodate Auston’s, Mitch’s and Willy’s contracts—provided none of them gets traded. With a new management coming in, who knows.

 

Still, it’s going to be like the Oilers last summer—though Auston is sufficiently self-aware to know he cannot command McDavid’s money. This means someone’s gotta go, and everyone knows who that someone—those ‘someones’—is going to be. It’s going to suck, especially if, as Auston suspects, they’re going to lose Marty in the process. Mitch is going to be gutted—not that Auston is going to throw a party, for that matter, but Mitch is Mitch and he takes this kind of things personally.

 

So Auston goes home, to sunny skies, drier climates, home cooking and the warmth and affection of his family. To the peace of the desert and the eerie beauty of Arizona’s vegetation, to the comfort of old friends and the familiarity of well-traveled roads. He passes the first few days in his room, sleeping off the journey, the season, and the heartbreak he’s spent most of the year dealing with, avoiding social media and news outlets with the precision of a general planning a military campaign.

 

Willy texts him lame memes, while Freddie snaps him cool pictures of Danish doors and windows—Auston has a weird fascination with both that Freddie is happy to indulge, when he’s not busy mocking him about it to the moon and back.

 

Zach emails him links to self-help books, but then Zach was the one who’d caught him crying in the Leafs’ shower room after the playoffs had ended. Plus, Zach knows everything else, too, so he’s trying to be supportive in the only way he can. Auston appreciates it.

 

Mitch texts sporadically; but, then, Mitch is currently royally pissed off at Auston—to the extent that Mitch cab be royally pissed of at anyone—what with Auston ditching Toronto right before Mitch’s birthday.

 

Auston loves Mitch, really, he does, and he loves Willy too, but there was no way in hell he was going to stick around for their birthdays after the clusterfuck of the last game in Boston. BFFs are BFFs until you have an entire city, and its media corps, against you.

 

Willy understood; Mitch, not so much, despite the conjoint celebrations he’d already planned with Marty and JvR.

 

Whatever. It’s not like Mitch doesn’t have friends and a girlfriend to entertain him when Auston isn’t around. Contrary to what Mo believes, the two of them are not _that_ codependent, especially when they’re in Toronto. Auston wasn't lying when he said to the reporters he spends most of his days at home when they’re not playing or on the road. Anonymity is a luxury he no longer enjoys, at least not in Canada. Though, to be fair, Mitch often comes over, but that’s another story, and one that Mo, or the media, doesn't get to hear about.

 

Things aren’t great, however, because heartbreak is heartbreak—Alex stopped making stupid jokes on day three—and the situation with Babs seems to get progressively worse, instead of better, now that Auston is no longer in Toronto.

 

_I thought they’d settled down if I left_ , Auston texts Zach, who, as a Toronto boy, has been seeing this all his life.

 

_You thought wrong_ , Zach answers, though he adds a kissy face and the bat emoji, because he’s weirder than Willy.

 

_It seems I cant do anything right_ , Auston replies, as bummed about this as he was a week ago.

 

_None of us can_ , is Zach’s quick response. _Only bringing the cup back to Toronto will get them off our backs._

 

And isn’t that simple? Auston can really relate to McDavid on days like these—and he doesn't have to justify a 100 million dollars contract, yet.

 

_Have u talked to Mitchy?_ Zach asks a bit later, while Auston is doing a crappy job of pretending to be dozing by the pool.

 

_We text_ , Auston replies, avoiding getting into the details of how Mitch texts, several times a day of late, and Auston responds sporadically.

 

_He’s worried about u_ , Zach informs him, which Auston doubts, because he looked fine in the birthday photos posted on Instagram. Auston half-assed a birthday message, which he knows must have pissed Mitch off even more, but he doesn’t care right now. He’s sulking and nursing a broken heart and Mitch can deal, or not deal, as the case might be.

 

_He hasn’t said anything_.

 

_Because he thinks you’re mad at him_ , Zach explains.

 

_Im not_ , Auston clarifies.

 

Heartbreak is not anger. Auston knows the difference very well.

 

Anger is losing the first round of playoffs because he underperformed, seemingly like everyone expected him to. Heartbreak is living, breathing and loving Mitch Marner while Mitch Marner lives, breathes and loves someone else. It’s been going on for a year, now, and Auston is tired. Distance didn’t help last summer, and he doubts it’s going to help this summer, but it’s the only way he knows how to deal with this, so he’s going to stick to it.

 

_Talk to him, okay_? Zach insists. _He keeps asking me if I’ve heard from you and I hate lying to him. He looks like a kicked puppy._

 

Auston smiles, because Mitch pouts beautifully, something nobody seems to have any defense against.

 

_After I talk to Babs. Maybe._

 

_I can’t believe he’s gonna come over because of what the media are saying_ , Zach replies, sending the rolling-my-eyes emoji to emphasize his point.

_Me neither_ , Auston admits, feeling embarrassed about Coach’s upcoming visit, even if it wasn't exactly Auston’s choice.

 

_Talk to Mitch_ , Zach repeats. _Figure this out, so I can enjoy my summer._

 

Auston snorts but doesn’t reply. When they’d last talked about this, Willy was trying to convince Zach to go to Sweden to visit his home country. Zach had looked at Willy like he had suggested a trip to the moon, which, really, could have been interpreted as the most wonderful thing in the world or as the most absurd. Auston doesn’t know what’s going on with his two wingers, but he thinks Zach should worry about his love life and not Auston’s.

 

Auston, on the other hand, has plenty of time to worry about his _lack_ of a love life, although that takes a back seat as Babs’ visit nears.

 

***

Babs arrives on a sunny Saturday afternoon, looking his usual intense self, though he’s clearly more relaxed than he was during the Leafs’ playoff run.

 

Auston has a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for his coach, who has the unfortunate job of being a sort-of-parent to more than twenty headstrong, competitive and opinionated guys. However, he’d rather not have this meeting now, when he feels so crappy about so many things.

 

Still, Babs wants to talk, and Auston knows that they both need to get some things off their chest and they need to clear the air. Game Seven sucked—hell, Auston sucked for the entire series—and he needs to at least apologize for his immature behavior. He expects more from himself. Sometimes, it’s just that he gets overwhelmed with everyone else’s expectations. He’s also honest enough to know that his feelings for Mitch have not really made things easier this year.

 

His mom cooks a wonderful meal, and his dad keeps Coach entertained with stories about Auston’s childhood antics for most of dinner. Auston is grateful to his parents for providing some reprieve, but he does want to get this over with. So when they’re done, Auston takes the situation in his own hands.

 

“Would it be okay if I cleaned up later and took Coach on a walk around the neighborhood?”

 

Auston’s parents look at each other with what Auston supposes passes for a proud smile, while Babs leans back on his chair, face inscrutable.

 

“Of course,” Brian hastens to agree. “I will take over cleaning duties tonight, you guys go ahead.”

 

In short order, Auston leads Babs outside of his house and into the relatively quiet streets of his neighborhood. It’s still early, and there is plenty of light, so Auston can point to some houses where old and new friends and neighbors live, explaining where the schools are, and highlighting some places of mild interest.

 

When they make it to the local park that had been Auston’s destination all along, Auston finds a bench and sits down.

 

Babs, who’s played along thus far, follows suit and seems to be intent to letting Auston find his own pace.

 

“Thanks for coming, Coach,” Auston begins, passing a nervous hand through his hair.

 

“I would say anytime,” Babs smiles ruefully, “but I do hope that, if I come back, it’s under better circumstances.”

 

“I really fucked up, didn’t I?” Auston whispers, hating to feel the weight of Coach’s disappointment on him.

 

“What?” Babs looks at him surprised. “No, of course not. What are you talking about?”

 

“During the playoffs,” Auston says, looking at Babs straight in the eyes, like his dad taught him. “I let everyone down. Fuck, I let myself down. And then I behaved like a child, at the end.”

 

Babs is silent for a bit, though he doesn’t stop looking at Auston. Then he shakes his head.

 

“We really should have head this conversation then, not now,” he says. “It would have spared you from beating yourself up so much.”

 

“I did suck, Coach,” Auston points out.

 

Players are not in the habit of cursing before management or the coaching staff, but Auston doesn’t have the mental energy of censoring himself, on top of everything else, and he knows Babs doesn’t mind.

 

“It wasn’t your best seven games,” Babs acknowledges. “You had the bad luck of hitting a slump during the playoff run, which does indeed suck. But you didn’t fuck it up.”

 

“You were counting on me,” Auston says.

 

“I am always counting on you,” Babs interrupts. “And on every player on the team. I am counting on you all to give 150% even when you can only physically give me 80%. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I weren’t. But it doesn’t mean that I think you fucked it up any more or any less than other players have over the past two years, Matty.”

 

“I …” Auston begins, but he stops himself, because he doesn’t want to sound conceit. He is the franchise first line center, the future captain, the face of the team—despite what Lou said for the past two years; plus, Lou is leaving, so who knows what’s gonna happen. However, as much as he’s aware of this reality, he doesn’t like to be reminded of that fact if he can avoid it and he certainly doesn't like to remind people of it.

 

“I know expectations are different for you,” Babs says, correctly reading Auston’s internal conflict. “I’d be a fool not to. And I know that, as much as you are in part responsible for putting unreasonable expectations upon yourself, the team, as well as the city, add to the weight you carry.”

 

Auston sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I can do it, Coach.”

 

“I know you can,” Babs says confidently. “You have been doing it. Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” he adds. “It wasn’t easy for Crosby, or Toews or Ovechkin. I imagine it’s not easy for McDavid, either.”

 

Auston snorts. He tries to avoid thinking about Connor McDavid as much as possible, since he’s the player whom he can more fairly measure against, and he’s gloriously losing that race—on top of everything else.

 

“Matty,” Babs says.

 

“I know, I know,” Auston replies. “I am sorry. Sometimes it’s just hard.”

 

“I get that,” Babs says sympathetically. “It’s going to get harder the longer you are in the league, though, Matty. I want you to be ready for that.”

 

“It’s just …” Auston says, leaning forward and looking at the swings, currently unoccupied, “it’s been such a crappy year, and it ended so badly. I was hoping to do better than last year, not worse.”

 

“Matty,” Babs says, “we talked about this back in February: there are things you can control in the game, and you are working hard to do so. You train extensively, you stay late for practice, you follow the trainers’ and the nutritionists’ advice and you are not afraid of integrating new exercises in your regimen. But injuries are not one of the things you can control. Yes, you were extremely unlucky this year, also because you dealt with three very different problems in one season. But you’re not injury-prone and they were all completely random occurrences. You cannot obsess about that.”

 

“I am not,” Auston protests. “At least, I don’t think I am. But I cannot help but thinking that if I’d played throughout the season I would have been in better shape to help the team.”

 

“Sure,” Babs agrees, “and if I’d listened to every person on Twitter, not to mention every Leaf fan, commentator, their grandmother and their third cousin twice removed, and made different coaching decisions I would have led the team to winning the division and getting home ice advantage. That would have meant not facing the Bruins, which would have resulted in a complete different alternate reality.”

 

“Okay, fine,” Auston concedes, smiling fleetingly. Coach is pretty hilarious when he is mocking the so-called experts. He does deadpan like nobody’s business.

 

“There is no changing the past, Matty,” Babs reminds him, leaning against the bench’s back. “There is only trying to shape the future.”

 

“I know,” Auston says for what seems like the nth time. “Sometimes it’s just hard to remember that.”

 

“For all of us,” Babs concedes. “I’ve had similar conversations with most of the players, Matty,” he adds. “In the past few days and throughout the season. Everyone is deeply disappointed with how the year ended, but that can be a good thing. It can motivate all of you—all of us—to do better and to work harder.”

 

Auston sighs and nods, but he doesn't say anything. It’s not that simple, not for him, at least, because his feelings about hockey, and about playing hockey in Toronto, are so tangled up with his feelings for Mitch, but he understands where Coach is coming from and where, ultimately, he wants him and the team to go.

 

“Something else is bothering you,” Babs says with his usual insightfulness when Auston doesn't speak for a while.

 

“Yeah,” Auston acknowledges without elaborating further.

 

“Wanna talk about it?” Babs asks gently.

 

And really, Auston didn't wake up this morning with a plan about discussing personal matters with his coach, but now that Babs is here, it seems like things are a bit easier.

 

“I am bi,” he says, keeping his voice deceptively even.

 

He doesn't think Babs is going to have a problem with that, otherwise he would not have said anything to begin with. He also suddenly realizes how important it is for him to have Babs know.

 

Babs’ expression doesn't change, and, thankfully for Auston, he’s old enough and experienced enough to treat this revelation with the carefulness and respect it merits.

 

“Thank you for telling me, Matty,” he says, squeezing Auston’s shoulder gently. “I am sure it wasn't easy. But you know that’s not a problem, right?”

 

“It’s just another way in which I am different,” Auston blurts out, thus expressing his innermost fears, the ones he shares only with his parents. “It’s not enough that I am American, half Mexican and that I didn't do hockey the proper way. I also have to go and be bisexual, because my life isn’t complicated enough as it is.”

 

Babs is silent for a long while, though his grip on Auston’s shoulder doesn’t weaken, and he remains a steady presence at Auston’s side. Auston can tell he’s thinking about a proper response, one that doesn't dismiss Auston’s feelings but that can also help him move past this moment.

 

“I am not going to pretend I understand,” Babs begins after a bit, “because I am none of the things you listed. But, Auston, there is nothing wrong with any of them, regardless of what some fans and some idiotic journalists out there might like you to think. I know that your ethnicity has been a source of insults,” Babs hastens to add when Auston tries to interrupt him to stress precisely that, “and _you_ know that the team has tried to deal with it directly with the players involved and through the League. I don't expect miracles. But as more people with diverse backgrounds make it into the NHL, we can hope to see more change for the better.”

 

“I guess,” Auston mumbles. He’s not as hopeful as Babs, but he knows that things are better than they were even five years ago. “But the League is barely capable of handling players of color. And journalists cannot help but asking questions about that guy with two moms, like that is in any way relevant in regards to how he plays hockey. It doesn't seem like there is much space for a Mexican-American player who likes men and women.”

 

“Are you thinking of coming out?” Babs asks gently. “Because Shanny and I, as well as the new general manager, will support you completely.”

 

“What?” Auston asks startled. “No, absolutely not,” he says adamant. “But it might come out, especially if I end up with a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend.”

 

“We can talk about this with PR,” Babs suggests. “To see if they have any suggestions. But I don't want you to think that this is another weight you have to carry, Auston, on top of all the other things you’ve put on your shoulders since you got to Toronto.”

 

Auston’s eyes fill with tears, and he’s just grateful that he doesn't burst out crying before Babs right then and there.

 

“Thanks, Coach,” he whispers. “I have no plans right to come out now, but I will let you know if I change my mind.”

 

“Good,” Babs says, patting Auston’s shoulder before letting go. “And really, thank you for telling me. You didn't have to, but it helps me understand you a bit more, even if your sexuality has no bearing on your ability to play hockey.”

 

“It’s why I wanted you to know,” Auston admits. “Sometimes I think that I am shortchanging people by hiding such an important part of myself. But then I think about what happens when people come out …”

 

“You don't have to explain,” Babs nods. “You don't owe anyone an explanation. From what I understand, coming out is a profoundly personal experience, and one that varies from individual to individual. What you say, or don't say, about it is entirely your business, and no one else’s.”

 

“My family knows,” Auston says. “They’ve always been very supportive.”

 

“That doesn't surprise me,” Babs smiles. “You have wonderful parents, and your sisters sound pretty amazing, too.”

 

“They are,” Auston confirms, sad that neither Alex nor Breyana could be here tonight to spend some time with Babs.

 

“I don't mean to pry,” Babs says a bit tentative, “but do you have someone on the team to talk about this?”

 

“Yes,” Auston nods, not resenting the question at all. He gets that Babs is just trying to make sure he has a support network. “Hymie and Willy know, and so does Freddie. They’ve all been helpful. And supportive. Especially Willy. ”

 

Babs lets out a short laugh at Willy’s mention, well aware of how William Nylander can be helpful in such circumstances.

 

“Good,” he says patently ignoring Auston’s smirk. “I am glad to hear that.”

 

“Thanks for listening, Coach,” Auston says, but Babs shakes his head.

 

“Thanks for talking to me, Matty,” he replies. “You didn't have to, especially considering how tense things have been of late. But I am glad you did.”

 

They spend the rest of the evening at the park, talking about summer plans and what Coach wants to see from Auston come training camp and next season. Auston explains some of the ideas he has for the summer, and Babs approves of some and asks him to hold off on others—“No sense is exhausting yourself before you turn 25.” It’s good. It’s great, actually, and by the time Babs leaves Arizona to go back to Toronto and on to Europe, Auston feels a thousand times better. Now he just has to figure out how to get through the summer without dealing with Mitch.

 

***

 

Mitch has other ideas, it seems. Because Mitch is an unstoppable force, and as much as Auston tries to be an immovable object, he really has a hard time doing so when it comes to Mitch Marner.

 

So Mitch FaceTimes Auston the day after Babs leaves for greener—literally—pastures.

 

“How did it go?” he asks, his face showing deep concern.

 

Auston almost feels guilty for having worried his best friend. Almost, however, because he needs space that, apparently, Mitch is not willing to give him.

 

“It was fine,” Auston sighs. “You know how Babs is. Supportive and gruff in equal measure.”

 

“But you guys are not mad at each other, right?” Mitch says, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. It’s a habit Auston found distracting even during their rookie season, before he realized he was actually in love with Marns, and not just in ‘sort of bro-lust’ with him. It doesn’t help now, either.

 

“We never were, Marns,” Auston replies. “I was frustrated and mad at myself. I still am, to be honest. But I’ll deal.”

 

“So you’re gonna come back, now, right?” Mitch asks all earnest and shit.

 

“Come back?” Auston repeats, not quite understanding the question.

 

“To Toronto,” Mitch explains slowly, as if Auston were suddenly three.

 

“Marns, it’s, like, May. I am not coming back until August,” Auston looks at Mitch with what he hopes is a stern expression.

 

“But,” Mitch begins, before he stops himself for a moment. “You left in a hurry and you missed my birthday. I wanna see you.”

 

This is why Auston is never getting over his stupid crush that’s not a crush. Because Mitch is always very clear about the fact that he wants Auston around all the time—or at least the times when he’s not busy with his other friends and his girlfriend, Auston thinks sourly.

 

“First of all,” Auston says patiently, because there is no use getting upset at Mitch for being somewhat selfish, “you’re seeing me right now.”

 

“It’s not the same,” Mitch mumbles, but Auston ignores him.

 

“Secondly, I would like to remind you that I actually live in Arizona when I don’t play hockey, not in Toronto. My family is here.”

 

“I know,” Mitch nods.

 

“Plus, I have plans to join Freddie in California later in the summer,” Auston adds.

 

“And you can’t sneak a trip to Toronto during all this excitement?” Mitch huffs.

 

“I spend most of the year in Toronto,” Auston reminds him.

 

“I know,” Mitch repeats, “but I was really looking forward to spending some time with you while we’re not playing hockey.”

 

“It would have helped if you’d let me know, Marns,” Auston points out, because this is news to him. And it’s not like they didn’t discuss their summer plans.

 

“I am sorry,” Mitch sounds contrite. “I figured I’d get around asking you about this when the season was over, and then the season ended in a clusterfuck and I was in a funk. Plus you weren’t doing great either. And then you left.”

 

“Okay,” Auston says. “I am still not coming back until the end of the summer.”

 

“Matty,” Mitch whines.

 

“No, Mitchy,” Auston says. “I need to spend some time away from all of that shit. I get that you’re from Toronto, or close enough that you feel like you belong there. But it’s been a hard year and I really need to clear my head. It’s not going to happen if I am in Toronto.”

 

“I sort of promise Davo and Stromer we’d go out together,” Mitch confesses, cheeks reddening as they do when he’s very embarrassed about something he’s done without someone’s permission.

 

Auston feels going hot all over just at the way Mitch phrased things, as if it were some sort of hockey double-date—not that Davo and Stromer are dating, at least not to Auston’s knowledge, but still.

 

“You what?” he croaks, thought he hopes Mitch chalks it up to a bad connection.

 

“You never met Stromer, right? I mean, besides World Juniors, and it’s not like we hanged out then,” Mitch explains quickly. “And Davo wanted to see you, so I told them we’d make it happen when everyone was back in the GTA.”

 

“Another thing you failed to mention,” Auston grumbles, feeling the tendrils of anger envelop his heart.

 

“I am sorry,” Mitch says for the third time.

 

“I am not sure I like this habit of yours of expecting me to be at your beck and call, Marns,” Auston says not hiding his annoyance.

 

“I don’t do that,” Mitch replies offended. “I don’t do that, do I?” he adds, looking vaguely mortified.

 

“You’ve done it twice already since you called, and we’ve been talking for, like, three seconds.”

 

“Oh god, I am becoming one of those friends,” Mitch says, reddening even more. “Though Davo and Stromer really want to see you.”

 

“Pushiness is really not an attractive trait, Marns,” Auston says unable to prevent his voice from coming out as anything but fond despite his irritation.

 

“I am not pushy,” Mitch almost screams his outrage. “I am … strong-willed.”

 

“Have you been studying your Thesaurus, Marns?” Auston asks with a smirk.

 

“Matty!” Mitch complains. “Everyone says I am a joy to be around.”

 

“Still not coming back until August, buddy,” Auston replies.

 

To be honest, he’d like to see Davo when they’re not battling for possession of the puck, and Dylan Strome sounds like the kind of friend Auston would find hilarious, but he’s not going back to Toronto for a dinner date with them, or whatever the fuck Mitch has planned.

 

“Why?” Marns asks.

 

“I just told you why, Mitch,” Auston replies rolling his eyes.

 

“But I miss you, Matty,” Mitch grumbles. “You weren’t here for my birthday, and you left so quickly we didn't get to even go golfing together. Would it be so awful to just come up for a weekend or something?”

 

Auston gets it, really. He misses Mitch, too. He missed him a lot last summer, which was how he realized that his feelings ran deeper than he’d originally thought. It’s hard going from spending basically every waking hour together to not seeing each other for months at a time. It doesn't change things, however. Auston does need some distance.

 

“I miss you, too, Mitchy,” he concedes. “I am still taking a breather until the end of the summer.”

 

“Matty …” Mitch begins.

 

“I am in love with you,” Auston blurts out, which seems to be something he’s doing a lot these days.

 

Mitch stills, his blue eyes widening in shock. He was clearly not expecting this. Hell, Auston was not expecting this.

 

“Fuck,” Auston says, feeling blood rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment, “I didn't mean to say that.”

 

“Auston,” Mitch whispers, looking flabbergasted.

 

“Please, forget I said anything,” Auston is quick to reply.

 

“Forget you told me you are in love with me?” Mitch asks incredulous. “How am I supposed to do that?”

 

“I really didn't mean to say it, I am sorry,” Auston says, passing a hand through his hair. Still, in for a penny and all that. “But that’s why I need some space.”

 

“From me?” Mitch asks. He looks … he looks suddenly heartbroken, if Auston is honest with himself. However, Auston cannot afford to worry about Mitch’s feelings at the moment.

 

“To an extent,” Auston admits, even if he knows Mitch is going to feel hurt by this.

 

Indeed, Mitch cannot hide a wince.

 

“I need to work through this, Mitchy,” Auston continues. “I don't think I need to explain  it further.”

 

“Auston,” Mitch says gently, his face softening and his blue eyes filling with unshed tears. Damn it, it’s Auston who’s suffering from unrequited love, not Mitch, so Mitch’s got no right to go all soft and sad.

 

“No, Mitch,” Auston says. “We’re not going to talk about this. I actually don't know why I told you, honestly. But you get why I don't want to come back to Toronto, and because I don't think it’s a good idea for me to come out for dinner with you and Davo and Stromer?”

 

Mitch is back to chewing his lower lip, silent.

 

“It’s going to be fine, Mitch,” Auston feels compelled to reassure him.

 

“Of course it’s going to be fine,” Mitch says, waving his right hand dismissively. “It’s us. We're always going to be fine. But we should really talk about this.”

 

“There is nothing to talk about,” Auston replies. “I am bi. You are straight. Not to mention, you are in a relationship, which is why I really should not have said anything. I am sorry for that. I don't want you to feel like I put you on the spot.”

 

“I don't” Mitch says, and he seems sincere.

 

“Still,” Auston continues, “feeling like this isn’t doing me much good and I would like to have some time to … I don't know …”

 

“Get over me?” Mitch suggests, looking like he’s just swallowed an entire lemon.

 

“I guess,” Auston admits, though it didn't really work too well last summer. Maybe Mitch knowing is the incentive Auston needs to let all of this go.

 

Mitch is silent for a very long while, and Auston lets him think about what Auston just said. He figures Mitch deserves at least that since Auston just dumped all his feelings on him.

 

“Okay, fine,” Mitch ends up saying. “I am going to let this go. For now,” he adds when he sees Auston exhaling in relief. “But we’re going to have to discuss this.”

 

“We just did,” Auston points out quite reasonably.

 

“No, Auston,” Mitch replies gently. “ _You_ did. It’s okay though. I can wait.”

 

Auston nods, but says nothing, since he doesn't think there is anything else to say.

 

“I _am_ sorry, Mitchy,” he adds.

 

“Don't ever apologize for how you feel, Auston,” Mitch tells him fiercely. “I am not offended or ashamed or whatever you think I might be feeling. And I am not angry, either. I understand that you need the space, so I am going to give it to you.”

 

“Thanks, Marns,” Auston says grateful.

 

“But you’re not going to cut me completely out, right?” Mitch asks tentatively. “Like, we can still text?”

 

“Of course,” Auston smiles softly. “Texting is good. I might be a bit slow in the replies, but I want to know how you’re doing and how your summer is going.”

 

Mitch smiles his toothy smile, as if the idea of being completely cut off from Auston was his worst nightmare and now he doesn't have to worry about it anymore.

 

“Good,” he says. “I am going to send you so many snaps of the fun I am going to have with Stromer, you’re gonna get jealous you didn't meet him.”

 

“Stromer is going to come back to Arizona at some point before I leave, Marns,” Auston huffs amused. “I might just take him out when he’s here to show him what having a good time actually looks like.”

 

Mitch pouts, looking patently faux-offended, and Auston feels relief sweeping through him as he realizes that they can still be them even if Auston loves Mitch and Mitch knows.

 

“You don't have his number,” Mitch smirks, looking satisfied with that realization.

 

“I have Davo’s,” Auston’s smirk is even bigger. “I have Dvo’s. I am not worried about getting in touch with Stromer.”

 

“Fine,” Mitch says. “Have it your way. I am still gonna show you how it’s done. Canadian style.”

 

“Sure, Marns,” Auston laughs, feeling lighthearted for the first time in months. Of course speaking to Mitch made things better. Of fucking course.

 

They say goodbye soon thereafter, and when Auston goes to sleep that night, for the first time in a while he actually gets plenty of good rest.

 

***

 

Things improve exponentially after that. Whether it’s because Auston talked to Babs, because he talked to Mitch or because he’s getting rest and he’s healing, he’s not sure. Nor does he care too much, since the result is that he is feeling better.

 

Mitch continues to text him, although Stromer doesn’t figure prominently in his snaps until mid-June. Auston texts back at least once every few days and Mitch doesn’t give him any grief for his slow replies and rare appearances.

 

Zach, too, texts Auston pretty regularly. Apparently Mitch went and talked to him about the whole thing, surmising, correctly as it turns out, that Zach might be in the loop. Hyms doesn’t tell Auston anything about his conversation with Mitch, though he explains that Mitch hasn't been intrusive or disrespectful.

 

“He is trying to understand how he didn’t see it,” Zach says one evening over FaceTime. He’s packing, because he decided to go to Sweden with Willy—whipped, Auston called him, but Zach just flipped him off and ignored him altogether.

 

“I am not the one wearing his heart on his sleeve,” Auston comments. “No, not that shirt. It makes you look like you’re from the 90s,” he adds.

 

“I am not taking fashion advice from someone who wears a bandana not as a joke,” Zach objects, though he ditches the shirt.

 

Auston smirks and Zach rolls his eyes.

 

“Anyway,” Zach continues, “he’s just annoyed because he was clueless. That’s all he really wanted to discuss.”

 

“But he’s fine, right?” Auston asks, incapable of not worrying about Mitch even if it’s really not his job or his responsibility.

 

“Of course, he’s fine,” Zach confirms. “It’s Mitchy. He’s generous to a fault and he never thinks badly of anyone, even when they ram him into the boards. Plus,” Zach adds, “he loves you. Maybe not in the way you love him, but he still loves you.”

 

“I know,” Auston sighs. “I just don’t want this to become some sort of Leafs soap opera that they’re going to make a movie about in fifty years.”

 

“Let’s be realistic, Matts,” Zach points out, “it took forever to get a movie done for the Miracle-On-Ice story. Your love life is not that interesting.”

 

Which, rude, but it’s also a good point, so Auston says nothing.

 

“Anyhow,” Zach carries on, “he’s been his usual pestering self, right?”

 

“Yep,” Auston confirms. “Texting me obnoxious memes and fashion suggestions when he’s not explaining his appalling plans with his GTA buddies.”

 

“There,” Zach smiles. “Nothing new, then. Nothing different. That’s good.”

 

Auston wants to agree with Hymie. Really, he does. But he’s honest enough, at least with himself, to admit that there was a tiny part of him who’d dreamed of Mitch reciprocating his feelings if he were ever to discover them. It hasn’t panned out, of course, and Auston is not mad. But he is a tiny bit disappointed, so the whole ‘nothing new, nothing different’ doesn’t exactly count as good news. Still. Better than Mitch turning on him or something equally awful.

 

“Okay,” Auston says. “Now tell me about this harebrained trip of yours.”

 

Zach doesn’t look offended, and Auston has ample time to regret even asking as he gets lectured about all the cities Willy plans to take Zach to. Auston doesn't really think he’s going to need to visit Sweden anytime soon, what with the in-depth introduction he just got. You can take the college boy out of college, etc. etc.

 

By the time they’re done, Auston feels compelled to text Mitch to let him know he should do a better job at helping Zach making the right decisions, since Auston is not there to do it himself.

 

_Im not touching that with a ten feet pole,_ Mitch replies almost immediately, referring to Zach and Willy’s upcoming trip, Auston supposes.

 

_U should fight for my interests._

 

_Im not sure how that’d work in this case, but Im not getting myself in the way of Willy Nilly’s heart desires._

Auston bursts out laughing at Mitch’s ridiculous nickname for Willy.

 

_Coward,_ he texts back with a poodle emoji to soften the blow.

 

_And proud of it_ , Mitch texts back shamelessly. _Ive got my orders and theyre clear: do not interfere with genius._

_Was this Willy, Hymie or, I don't know, Mo?_ Auston asks.

 

_Willy of course_ , Mitch adds a blue heart for emphasis.

 

Auston lets it go. It’s one of the longest exchanges the two of them have had since he told Mitch about his feelings, and it seems enough for now. Still some twenty minutes later, a long text comes through, which is actually not only quite articulated, but also relatively free of typos and what not.

 

_BTW_ , Mitch begins, _I don't think I handled your coming out to me all too well. I am not talking about the rest, just about the bit where you told me you’re bi._

Auston appreciates the clarification for what it is: Mitch’s assurance that he’s not bothering Auston about his feelings. He continues to read.

 

_So I wanted to say thank you for trusting me and that I have your back whenever you need me to. And also, I am not sure who knows and what your plans are, but I’m gonna support you 100% no matter what._

Mitch adds some appropriate rainbow emoji, as well as the ever-present blue hearts and kissy faces, which draw a smile from Auston.

 

It’s a sweet text, and Auston can imagine Mitch fretting over it, and possibly asking Patty or Marty to help. Which, now that he thinks of it, might be what happened.

 

_Thanks, Marns_ , Auston texts back

 

Mitch replies with an avocado and that’s the end of that.

 

And really, Auston thinks that’s going to be the end of that and he goes back to his life, training, and hanging out with his friends, as well as coordinating his late July trip to California with Freddie. But then, Dylan Strome rolls into town at the end of June and it emerges clearly that there is no end in sight.

 

***

 

“Thanks for showing me the sights,” Stromer smiles lifting the beer he ordered.

 

Auston flips him off—they’re already that kind of friends—and sips his water sulking. Two more months, and he’s going to be able to drink legally in the States, too. Thank fuck he wasn't born in December.

 

“You didn't leave me much of a choice,” Auston reminds him, though he’s being a bit unfair.

 

Mitch has hooked them up, but Auston likes everything he’s heard about Stromer from Mitch, so it wasn't a hardship for him to organize spending a few hours together. It’s unclear what is going to happen to Stromer this year, though he seems at peace with being successful in the AHL, but Auston can tell he genuinely likes Phoenix, so Auston was happy to drive him around.

 

“ _Marns_ didn't leave you much of a choice,” Stromer corrects him. “But that is Marns for you. Steamrolling into people’s lives since before he was born.”

 

Auston lets out a startled laugh, appreciating Stromer’s humor, which is very similar to his own.

 

“You guys didn't start out as friends, right?” Auston asks, because he seems to remember Mitch talking about it.

 

“Oh, no,” Stromer says, and pausing for a moment when they get their cheeseburgers—it’s a cheat day for both of them, they’ve decided.

 

“He was a little shit,” Stromer continues. “Still is, though it comes from a place of love. When we were kids I kept thinking about him as this annoying, buzzing little gnat that I could never quite swat away.”

 

Auston nods, because he gets the comparison, though he thinks of Mitch more like a butterfly than a gnat. He flitters around happily in the locker room, draping himself over this person or that, and bothering them lovingly. It’s quite endearing, but Auston admits he’s a tad biased.

 

“Davo was actually quite taken with him,” Stromer confesses, chewing on his food pensively. “But then Davo tends to like people because he likes their hockey,” he adds shaking his head, as if he’s given up on socializing Connor McDavid a long time ago.

 

“I can totally see that,” Auston comments, remembering the World Cup and how he and Davo became very close very quickly. Davo also bonded with Eichs, which is really saying something considering all the drama between the two of them during their rookie season.

 

“Anyway, once we played together in Helsinki and I discovered Mitch is actually quite cool, I stopped wanting to smash him on the floor and started hanging out with him. Davo was delighted, of course.”

 

“It must have been cool to go through the draft together,” Auston says wistfully.

 

“It was,” Stromer smiles at the memory. “I can’t believe it’s already been three years. But it was awesome. Florida was atrocious, don't get me wrong. I don't know who thought that having planned activities outdoors at the end of June was a good idea. The trip to the Everglades was awful. But the whole thing was pretty neat and Davo and Marns made it even better. And the other top prospects too. You’re friends with Eichs and Werenski, right? He’s quite something.”

 

“He is,” Auston agrees. “All the people who go through the UNTDP are quite something, though I’m no sure if it’s because we went through it and because we’re like that to begin with.”

 

“Something to ponder, I guess,” Stromer says, clearly not too concern about the potential craziness of some of the American players.

 

“Well,” Auston says, picking up a bunch of fries, “you’re always welcome to get in touch with me. If I am around we can hang.”

 

“Cool,” Stromer says. “And same for you if you’re ever in Toronto for the summer. I know that Mitch was trying to get us all together, but you’re staying put.”

 

“Yeah,” Auston says, not elaborating on his reasons.

 

“Don’t worry,” Stromer consoles him, it sounds like. “Davo is coming down after the awards, so you might get to see him here.”

 

“Oh,” Auston says surprised, though there is no real reason for that, since it’s not like he’s privy to McDavid’s social engagements.  

 

“Yep,” Stromer says, rolling his eyes. “He wants to make sure my apartment is up to his standards and that I am doing fine here by myself.”

 

“Still captaining you?” Auston asks.

 

“Among other things,” Stromer smirks. Auston gets the impression there is a joke there that he’s not getting.

 

“Well, you know my schedule,” Auston tells him, since they’d discussed their plans while in the car this afternoon. “If we’re all here we can get dinner and spend the evening having fun at Marns’ expenses.”

 

“Oh,” Stromer smiles widely. “That’s why Marns said I would love you. He knows me so well.”

 

Auston waggles his eyebrows and refrains from saying anything stupid, like he’d like for Marns to love him, too.

 

***

 

_Soooo_ , Mitch texts Auston a few days later. Auston is, once again, lying by the pool and working on his already impressive tan. He spent the morning with one of his trainers and he has some ice time booked for tomorrow, so he’s being lazy right now.

 

_I hear you and Stromer are BFFs now,_ Mitch continues.

 

Auston rolls his eyes and decides to text the relevant emoticon so Mitch knows what he’s thinking of him.

 

_He’s pretty taken with u,_ Mitch adds.

 

_Do I even wanna know?_ Auston asks worried.

 

_He thinks ur 2 cool to be my friend,_ Mitch clarifies.

 

_I mean, hes not wrong._

 

_Not cool, Matty_ , Mitch replies quickly. Then, after a couple of minutes.

 

_Listen, I understand if you don't want to, but could I call?_

 

Auston feels a pang in his chest. He’s doing well, all things considered. He’s not pining as hopelessly as he was during the season, and he’s … content is a good word to describe how he feels. Hanging out with Stromer and hearing stories about Mitch when he was in the O was fun, and texting with Mitch has been nice. He’s not sure if talking is a good idea, however. Though, it’s been almost a month and a half since their heart-to-heart and Mitch has been extremely mindful when it comes to Auston’s space.

 

_Okay,_ Auston replies after thinking about it for a bit.

 

_Is now a good time?_

 

_Sure, but give me a minute,_ he says, getting off the lawn chair and going back inside to put a shirt on.

 

Five minutes later, the two of them are on the phone. Mitch looks good, though he’s as pale as he is in the middle of January. He doesn't get much of a tan even when he spends plenty of time in the sun. He’s also gained some weight back and he’s clearly been working out.

 

“You look good,” Mitch tells him. “Rested. Healthy.”

 

“I feel good,” Auston admits.

 

“How’re the shoulder and the back?” Mitch asks.

 

“Completely healed, the trainers said. They don't bother me anymore, which is a relief,” Auston confesses.

 

Mitch nods in sympathy.

 

“You?”

 

“I am doing great,” Mitch smiles. “I’ve been training with Stromer for a bit, until he came down to Arizona. Brownie has joined us and now that Zach is back from Europe we might try to get him to come along.”

 

“Ah,” Auston says. He still hasn't spoken with Zach so he doesn't know the details, but according to Willy the trip went swimmingly.

 

“I know nothing,” Mitch hastens to clarify, “nor do I want to. But Willy Nilly was super-excited in his snaps.”

 

“You have to promise me you will make sure I will be there when you call him that to his face,” Auston tells Mitch.

 

“We’ll see,” Mitch says non-committedly.

 

“Anyway,” Auston says, “What did you want to talk about?”

 

“Oh, right,” Mitch says, blushing delicately. “So, you know that Davo’s there, right?”

 

“Yep,” Auston confirms. “I am getting way more pictures of him and Stromer than I ever wanted to. Neither of them is that attractive.”

 

Mitch snorts. “I hear you. Still, they’re very cute, so I let them indulge in this over-sharing.”

 

“You do that,” Auston says. “I put a moratorium on the numbers of updates Stromer can send me on any given day. Stromer, of course, circumvented that by instructing Davo to snap me what he no longer can.”

 

“And one doesn't say no to Connor McDavid,” Mitch nods sagely. Which is precisely Auston’s sentiment, not to mention Stromer’s very good assessment of the situation.

 

“So, Stromer asked if I thought I could come down,” Mitch continues.

 

Auston freezes, because he should have seen this coming, and he didn't.

 

“Okay,” he says quietly.

 

“And I really want to,” Mitch continues, speaking faster and faster as he gets into his explanation. “I want to see you and I need to talk to you. And of course I want to see Stromer and Davo—together, instead of separately. I have some time now, and I’ve never been to Arizona except during games, and I thought it’d be nice to be dragged around by Stromer, though what the hell he knows about your home state is unclear. And I really wanna see you and …”

 

“Marns,” Auston attempts to stop the word vomit.

 

“Yeah?” Mitch asks, sounding suddenly shy.

 

Auston shakes his head, his heart bursting with love and fondness, because of course Mitch is worried about him, even if time has gone by and they are actually fine.

 

“Is that a no?” Mitch says looking really sad.

 

“Of course not, Mitchy,” Auston says. “You should come if you want to.”

 

“And can I see you?”

 

“Can I think about it?” Auston asks. “Like, for more than five minutes?”

 

Mitch nods emphatically. “Yes, of course. I can wait until you decide before I tell Stromer if I can make it. I don't want to come down if we’re going to have to explain to him and Davo why we can’t have a chel tourney or something like that.”

 

That’s probably why Auston is never going to get completely over Mitch. Because the guy is too thoughtful and considerate for his own good. How can Auston not love him?

 

“Okay,” Auston says, “I will let you know tomorrow, how’s that?”

 

“That’s fine,” Mitch nods enthused. “And because I don't want to overstay my welcome I am going to say goodbye now. But Auston,” he adds serious. “I really want to see you. And we do need to talk.”

 

Auston nods, and Mitch ends the call with a ‘Later’ that he clearly picked up from Willy.

 

Auston goes back outside and actually gets into the water, swimming a few laps to clear his head. It doesn't take him long to realize that the idea of seeing Mitch is filling him with excitement and happiness, and not dread. Even if Mitch doesn't love him. Even if Mitch is with someone else, he’s still one of Auston’s best friends, and Auston misses him. Spending some time with him, and with his friends from the O, doesn't sound like a bad thing.

 

When he texts to Zach and Freddie to make sure he’s not making a mistake, they’re both supportive of his decision is their own way—Zach sends him a three page treatise of support, while Freddie limits himself to three words. Auston does love his friends.

 

So later that night, Auston picks up the phone and texts Mitch.

 

_When are you arriving?_

 

The thirty-four blue hearts are a great answer, but Mitch is also considerate enough to send Auston his trip details as well as his hotel information. Auston has a week to get used to the idea of seeing Mitch sooner than he thought he would. He cannot help but feeling excited about the prospect.

 

***

 

As it turns out, Auston doesn't see Mitch when he first arrives in Arizona. Davo and Stromer pick him up from the airport and monopolize his time and attention for a good three days.

 

Auston is not offended—he finds Mitch’s bitching quite hilarious, and the colorful commentary Stromer sends along with the pictures Davo takes is really entertaining.

 

Incidentally, the grace period allows Auston to get used to the idea of Mitch being _here_ and it settles whatever nerves he might have at the prospect of seeing him again.

 

So when Stromer texts him to let him know he can have Mitch for the day—“I am not a puppy, Dyls,” Mitch responds on the group chat that Stromer set up for the four of them—Auston is ready.

 

He picks up Mitch from his hotel mid-morning, and because his parents raised him right, he actually parks and goes in.

 

Mitch is waiting for him in the lobby, checking his phone when he’s not looking around. When he sees Auston, a huge smile appears on his face and he hastens to reach him, ending up almost throwing himself at him.

 

“Matty,” he greets him delighted, hugging him hard.

 

“Mitchy,” Auston mocks him, though he hugs him just as hard.

 

“I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about the States. Arizona is beautiful,” Mitch says excitedly. “Like, Davo and I took a car ride to see the desert and it’s spectacular.”

 

“It is,” Auston agrees. “You need to see it at dawn or sunset to get the full show, though.”

 

“Dyls told us, but none of us wants to get up too early,” Mitch wrinkles his nose in distaste at the mere idea.

 

“So,” Auston says, “you didn't have breakfast, right?”

 

“Only a granola bar, because I was starving. But I am ready to be treated to real Mexican food,” Mitch assures him.

 

They agreed on it yesterday, and Mitch seemed on board with the idea, especially because Stromer apparently doesn't still have a good grasp as to where to get decent food, whether in Phoenix or Tucson.

 

“Let’s go then. By the time we’re done, you’ll be so stuffed you won’t want to eat for a decade,” Auston promises him.

 

The drive to the restaurant—a little family run place Auston’s parents have been going to for years—is filled with Mitch’s account of his summer thus far, with a particular focus on the last few days. The conversation continues to flow easily as they get seated, order their food and eat it with gusto.

 

Mitch is animated, clearly happy to be visiting Stromer and Davo, and excited about catching up with Auston, who decides he doesn’t regret his decision one bit.

 

“So how come Strome and Davo let you off today?” Auston asks once they’re done with lunch, the check paid, and the table cleared. They’re lingering for a bit to let the food settle before going to the rink for some relaxed skating.

 

“They wanted some alone-time,” Mitch explains. “Like, I love them both a lot, and they’re very cute and cuddly, but sometimes Davo gets really weird and possessive and Stromer likes to indulge him. So I decided that retreat was the best part of valor.”

 

Auston hears the words and he understands the words, but it takes him more than it should have for the words to actually _register._

“Wait, what?” he says, sounding more incoherent than he’d like to admit.

 

“What?” Mitch repeats perplexed.

 

“Stromer and Davo are _together_?” Auston asks, not particularly proud of the high-pitched tone of his voice.

 

“Of course they are,” Mitch replies. “I thought you knew. Dyls made it sound like you knew.”

 

“I didn’t,” Auston explains. “He never said anything.”

 

“I mean,” Mitch says, clearly amused at Auston’s cluelessness. “What was your read of all those photos you got? Because in some of them they were not exactly behaving platonically. Not to mention the fact that Davo came down to check on Stromer.”

 

“I thought they were just good friends,” Auston objects, since it’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. “Maybe a bit co-dependent, but it’s not like I have room to talk.”

 

“They certainly are that,” Mitch laughs openly. “They’re also dating. Have been since their last year in the O.”

 

“They’ve been together for _four_ years?” Auston asks astonished.

 

“Yep,” Mitch nods. “I think their anniversary is coming up. It’s sometimes in August.”

 

“Wow,” Auston says, because this is really unexpected, but also so neat.

 

“I know,” Mitch smiles. “At the beginning I thought it wasn’t going to last. They did too, actually, what with knowing they’d be drafted by teams that were probably going to be quite far apart. Now I am convinced they’re going to go the distance.”

 

“Marns,” Auston says, “this is great.”

 

“It is,” Mitch agrees. “Though not a ton of people know. Like, family and close friends and the Oilers management, since Davo wanted to be upfront before he signed his contract. Stromer hasn’t said anything to the ‘Yotes, however.”

 

“I am not going to spread this around,” Auston promises.

 

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Mitch hastens to assure him. “As I said, Dyls thinks you know and has no problem with that. And Davo doesn’t either. That means they trust you.”

 

“Wait,” Auston says as the obvious occurs to him. “Is that why you were so chill when I told you I’m bi?”

 

Mitch reddens, but he shakes his head. “Maybe it helped, because when you get to deal with these things when you’re an idiotic teenager you pick up some pointers. But I genuinely don’t think about people in terms of their sexuality, so it has never been an issue. It’s not something a person can be chill or not chill, right? It just is.”

 

“I wish all people shared your approach,” Auston sighs.

 

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “I guess that’s a good point. Still you know our teammates are not going to care, right? Like, I was thinking about it when you told me and I couldn’t find anyone who’d actually be a dick about it.”

 

“I know,” Auston agrees. “I just don’t want people minding my business. Plus Willy, Hymie and Freddie know, and I told Babs when he came.”

 

“That’s great,” Mitch smiles widely. “That you told Babs, I mean. I figured you had some people to talk to. Zach has been very helpful.”

 

“Zach is the best,” Auston states. “Anyways,” he adds, “you’re sexiled today, so to speak.”

 

“Another reason why I did not want to squat at Stromer’s apartment,” Mitch wrinkles his nose. “Been there, done that, and I didn’t even get the t-shirt. My hotel room is mercifully empty of lovebirds. By the way,” Mitch continues, “we’re invited for dinner tomorrow night, if you are free.”

 

“Stromer’s cooking?” Auston asks, because from the chat they had when they saw each other it didn’t sound like Stromer had a clue what to do with food, except for eating it, and Davo’s incompetence in the kitchen is a matter of public record.

 

“We’re ordering in; Thai, most likely, if Davo has his way,” Mitch explains.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Auston nods. Two days in a row of Mitch might not be a great idea, but Stromer and Davo are going to provide some buffer. “It sounds like you’re getting your wish after all,” he smirks.

 

“It was Davo’s request,” Mitch defends himself, though he blushes again.

 

“And on a scale from one to ten where one is a cuddly Willy and ten is a cheek-licking Marchand, how annoying were you in order to make this happen?”

 

“I was not annoying at all,” Mitch huffs. “I am never annoying.”

 

“I think there are at least three people in the Phoenix metropolitan area that would beg to differ right about now,” Auston laughs.

 

“Whatever,” Mitch says. “I am not annoying. Can we go skate now?”

 

“Sure, Marns, we can go skate,” Auston shakes his head. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re an annoying pain in the butt.”

 

Mitch refrains from responding, but drags Auston out of the restaurant and back to the car.

 

It’s a good day. It’s an excellent day, actually, and so is dinner with Stromer and Davo, who are disgustingly domestic considering that they are two young Canadian hockey players. Auston has a lot of fun with the three of them and he doesn’t feel out of place once, even if Mitch, Stromer and Davo share years of friendship and closeness. A lot of their inside jokes are hockey-related and Auston has no trouble following along. And what he doesn’t get, Mitch is always quick to explain, concerned with making sure Auston doesn’t feel left out.

 

After that, the three of them are off to Tucson, and Auston stays behind despite Mitch’s bitching. Not that it stops Mitch from texting him every three seconds to show him what he’s missing, like Auston’s never been to Tucson in his life. Still, it’s nice to feel wanted.

 

However, it occurs to Auston that Mitch had said they needed to talk and this hasn’t happened yet. Not that Auston is complaining about it, since he cannot even begin to fathom what Mitch might wish to discuss—plus, usually when his mom tells his dad they need to talk, it often means his dad screwed up. Come to think of it, his mom does the same with Auston and his sisters, but that’s beside the point.

 

When Mitch comes back to Phoenix two days before he’s supposed to fly back to Toronto, Auston gets a text.

 

_Could we talk?_

 

Auston swallows loudly and replies, _Yes of course. What’s up?_

_In person?_

_Where r u?_ Auston asks.

 

_At my hotel. Sexiled again_ , Mitch explains, adding some poop emoji to describe how he feels about it.

 

_I can come by and we can so somewhere?_ Auston suggests, thinking that neutral grounds might be the way to go since he doesn’t know what Mitch wants to talk about.

 

_K,_ Mitch replies. _Now good?_

_Sure,_ Auston says, swallowing even more loudly. _Give me an hour to get ready and get there._

 

Mitch is waiting for him outside when Auston pulls up and he gets in the car quickly.

 

“Thanks, dude,” he says, “I hate not having a car, but it seemed stupid to rent one. Plus, my Canadian driver license isn’t impressing anyone.”

 

“It’s no big deal,” Auston replies. “Where do you wanna go?”

 

“No clue,” Mitch says. “Somewhere quiet?” he adds.

 

Auston thinks about it, and then decides to take Mitch to a small rink in the suburbs. It doesn’t see a lot of traffic, but it’s open year around and the owner knows Auston well enough to understand that when he’s there, he needs some space. Auston tries not to abuse of the privilege, even if it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s back home. It seems suitable for the occasion.

 

Mitch, when he sees the rink, is charmed and impressed in equal measure, both because of the friendly environment and because the ice is up to his standards—like just because they’re in the American Southwest they have never seen ice before.

 

Rented skates are never fun when you’re a professional hockey player, but Auston and Mitch make do and they take a few laps in the semi-deserted space before Auston bites the bullet.

 

“You wanted to talk,” he says.

 

Mitch nods and comes to a stop.

 

“It’s about what you told me back in May,” Mitch begins, looking at Auston anxious.

 

“Marns,” Auston says, but Mitch interrupts him.

 

“No, Auston,” he says, his voice sterner than Auston’s even heard. “I understand how you feel, but you never let me say my piece. I think it’s fair for you to listen to me for a minute.”

 

Auston looks away, because he really doesn’t want to do this, especially now that he has concrete proofs that their friendship is going to survive his unrequited feelings. However, Mitch has never looked so determined, and Auston has never been very good at denying Mitch.

 

“Okay,” he relents.

 

“Thanks,” Mitch smiles. “So, I’m sure you know this by now, but I didn’t really realize you were in love with me until you told me. And I felt like an idiot, because I’ve known Dyls and Davo for years and we often behave exactly like they do.”

 

“The indefinable boundary between bromance and romance,” Auston jokes.

 

“Yep,” Mitch agrees. “And it’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine to feel like an idiot but I got over that pretty fast. I didn’t, however, get over what you told me.”

 

“Mitch,” Auston tries to interrupt him.

 

“Let me finish, Matty,” Mitch says. “I continue not to be angry, offended or embarrassed by this, so get that out of your head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, however,” Mitch repeats when Auston nods to allow him to continue. “You know we’re very close. Everyone makes fun of us, and the idea of not being able to talk to you for more than a day made me wanna be sick. So I sat down and started thinking about what it all meant.”

 

“Okay,” Auston says, fighting the tendrils of hope flickering in his heart with all his might.

 

“Naturally, that required for me to consult a couple of people,” Mitch says self-deprecating.

 

“Naturally,” Auston snorts.

 

“So Patty knows,” Mitch continues. “And Christina, since she was there, too.”

 

“About me?” Auston asks, surprised Mitch would out him, even if it’s Patty and Christina, whom Auston adores.

 

“Of course not, dummy,” Mitch swats him. “I was very vague and I never once mentioned hockey. I just talked about a friend. A male friend.”

 

“Okay,” Auston says, not following.

 

“And about how knowing he was in love with me made me feel.”

 

“Oh,” Auston says blushing.

 

“Yeah,” Mitch nods sagely, patting Auston’s shoulder encouragingly. “We never really addressed that. I mean, besides that I told you it was fine.”

 

“But you know I wasn’t expecting anything, Mitch,” Auston says.

 

“Yes, Auston,” Mitch smiles. “But when you say something, you can’t unsay it. Not can you un-hear it, once it’s out there. You can’t expect a person to forget about it just because you’d like to.”

 

“I am sorry,” Auston repeats for the nth time.

 

“Still not angry,” Mitch says. “Never was, never will be. Not about this, at least. But it got me thinking. And it got me to reconsider plenty of things in light of your … revelation.”

 

“I guess that makes sense,” Auston comments, remembering how he went through something similar last summer, even if he was the one doing the pining, and not the … _pined_ sounds awful, so Auston lets that go.

 

“So I was wondering if you’d let me take you out to dinner tonight,” Mitch concludes, his toothy smile in full display.

 

“Excuse me?” Auston asks, not believing what he just heard.

 

“Out? For dinner? Tonight? Stromer and Davo helped me find a decent restaurant, though they think it’s for them and not us,” Mitch explains. “They made reservations for tomorrow night, so the coast is clear for tonight. Plus they’re busy fucking like bunnies.”

 

“You have a girlfriend,” Auston reminds him, but Mitch snorts.

 

“No, I don’t,” he says. “Not anymore,” he adds, “not for the last month.”

 

“Mitchy,” Auston says, unable to stop himself from feeling mortified and heartbroken in equal measure. He didn’t want this for Mitch.

 

“It’s fine, Auston,” Mitch smiles. “It really is. I would never have broken it off if I thought we had a chance. Plus, she hasn’t been very happy with me since that interview where Marty had to remind me that one of my favorite non-hockey things to do was spending time with her.”

 

Auston remembers how much chirping Mitch had had to endure because of that.

 

“She was mad?” he asks.

 

“It’s more that it was a red flag,” Mitch shrugs, “for her certainly. But in hindsight for me, as well. I mean, the first thing that went through my head when Marty asked me that question was to say, ‘I like to spend time with Matty’. Luckily I was able to say family and friends, but ‘girlfriend’ was clearly not at the forefront of my thoughts.”

 

“Jeez, Marns,” Auston says, leaning against the boards. “I don’t know if I should keep apologizing or what.”

 

“Don’t,” Mitch reassures him. “It was all very civilized, though she suggested I figure shit out before I start dating again.”

 

“And you managed that in a month?” Auston asks incredulous. “Because if you did, you should patent your secret. You’d made a ton of money.”

 

“I already do, Matty, do try and keep up,” Mitch says snottily.

 

“Okay, fine,” Auston concedes, “you don't need to share your secret. But you probably want to take a little more time before you ask a guy out for dinner.”

 

“Why?” Mitch asks tilting his head.

 

“I mean,” Auston fumbles. “Because you just ended a long-term relationship. And you’re straight.”

 

“Ah,” Mitch nods. “I don't think that waiting for longer, like six months or a year, is going to make me change my mind in terms of wanting to take you out for dinner or date you,” Mitch explains, looking at Auston directly even if he’s clearly a bit embarrassed. “Like, it’s not like anybody died and I have to mourn. We were together for a while, but it wasn't a messy break-up or anything like that.”

 

Auston says nothing, since it’s Mitch’s feelings, so he has to trust him on that.

 

“As for the rest,” Mitch continues gently, “I am sorry if I misled you and didn't say anything sooner, Matty, but I don't remember ever claiming I was straight.”

 

Auston widens his eyes surprised, because this never crossed his mind.

 

“You’re not,” he says clumsily, and it’s not a question.

 

“I’m not. Though it’s been a while since I’ve been with a guy,” Mitch acknowledges with a shy smile. “Like, a long while.”

 

“How long?” Auston asks suspicious.

 

“Since my draft year,” Mitch says. “Then I met my ex and that was that.”

 

“I am glad you told me, Marns,” Auston says, leaning towards Mitch in support. “Thanks.”

 

“I would have told you in May if you’d let me. I should have told you before, but it’s not something one drops into a convo.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Auston agrees, imagining chel tournaments where some of the Leafs come out as bi or gay. It sounds pretty ridiculous, even though there are plenty of ridiculous people on the team.

 

“So,” Mitch says, “will you let me take you out?”

 

“Mitch,” Auston says hesitant, because he’s still hopelessly in love, and Mitch is … whatever he is it’s not that.

 

“Give us a chance, Auston,” Mitch says softly, leaning into Auston and looking at him. “You love me, and I love you, too. You are my best friend on the team, one of my closest friends in the world, and being away from you, not being able to talk to you, was terrible. I think this could be good.”

 

“You’re not in love with me,” Auston says, because he thinks it needs to be said.

 

Mitch shakes his head, looking so very fond.

 

“I _love_ you,” he repeats. “I think you’re hot, and I want to have sex with you on every surface on my hotel room—in case that wasn't clear enough.”

 

Which, it wasn't, so Auston appreciates the clarification, even if it could have come at another time, like when they’re not in the middle of a fucking ice ring.

 

“I want to spend all my time with you,” Mitch continues. “You’re the first thing I think of in the morning. I cannot say you’re the last thing I think of at night, though, since I usually fall asleep playing Pet Rescue Saga so I can dream of puppies.”

 

“That’s fine,” Auston laughs, well versed in Mitch’s obsession with the stupid game. Auston is just freaked out by how those lovely puppies can get squished so ruthlessly. He never warmed up to the game, but Mitch is a champion at it.

 

“So,” Mitch concludes, “I think you can be pretty sure your feelings are not unrequited and we can take it from there.”

 

“One dinner?” Auston asks just to make sure.

 

“For starters,” Mitch says. “Then, if you are okay with it, we can try to see if we can coordinate a few more dates before the season starts. I am happy to fly down or we can meet somewhere. You’re not spending all the time in Cali, right?”

 

“No,” Auston says, still feeling dazed. “Meeting somewhere would be nice, though.”

 

“Cool,” Mitch says happily. “We could go somewhere where hockey is, like, not a thing, and do something fun.”

 

“I would like that,” Auston admits.

 

“Leave it to me,” Mitch says excitedly. “I’ve got Patty on speed-dial for consultations, now.”

 

Auston bursts out laughing and drags Mitch to his chest in a fierce hug. They’re not going to be able to do more than that until they’re alone, but this is good.

 

“You can tell him, if you want,” he mumbles in Mitch’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah?” Mitch pulls back, his eyes sparkling with joy. “That’d be great. He and Christina got so invested I think they’re waiting for a full report.”

 

“And I assume you want to tell Stromer and Davo,” Auston says good-naturedly.

 

“And Zach and Willy and Freddie,” Mitch nods. “And my family and Marty,” he adds. “But we can wait for a bit.”

 

“Would you mind?” Auston asks. “I mean, we can tell Patty and Stromer and Davo. But for the rest, maybe we can wait until the beginning of the season.” Just to make sure it lasts, he thinks.

 

Mitch knows him too well, since he smiles and nods. “As long as you want,” he says. “I am just so psyched you actually said yes I don't care who knows or doesn't know. Not right now, at least.”

 

“I love you, Marns,” Auston says, since it occurs to him he never said it intentionally.

 

“I love you, too, Matty,” Mitch replies looking radiant. “Now let’s skate some more so we can make room for the fabulous food we’re going to eat tonight.”

 

After that, Mitch grabs Auston’s hand and starts dragging him all around the rink before challenging him at a game of tag.

 

Auston shakes his head and indulges him. It seems fitting that their relationship changed so dramatically on the ice, since that’s where they got to know each other and where Auston fell in love with Mitch. Where, as it seems, Mitch fell in love with him.

 

Promising himself to send a gift basket to Patty and Christina, and to Hyms and Freddie for good measure, Auston skates towards Mitch and lets the familiar atmosphere of the rink envelop him. As Mitch smiles at him and takes his hand, Auston feels light, his heart full of hope. It’s going to be a great summer, after all.

 


End file.
